


Tastes better with Violence

by Mado



Category: Cable and Deadpool
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:30:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mado/pseuds/Mado
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cable hardly found it necessary to rush up the stairs despite the sounds of crashing that came from Wade’s apartment; it wasn’t exactly unusual, though he did have a small amount of sympathy for the neighbors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tastes better with Violence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "I want food!pr0n. Or pr0n with food. Would like to see Taskmaster and Wade arguing over takeout...Tasky wants something halfway decent, and doesn't really want to order takeout at all, but Wade won't let him cook. Wade wants pizza with pineapple and black olives and the crust burnt.
> 
> Nate walks in in the middle of a food fight between the two of them (metaphorical or literal). Hijinks ensue."
> 
> Only no porn happened, whoops.

“See now I’m convinced you’re cheating, you dirty… cheater.” Wade glared at the television from his upside down position on the love seat, legs hooked over the back, head lolling over the edge. He gestured exuberantly with the Wii controller as Mario was bashed off the screen by Link…. For the tenth time. 

Tony yawned, sinking back down beside him, letting his own controller rest in his lap as the screen faded away to the victory animation. “So, pick something else. Kicking your ass gets boring.” 

“Mario Kart?” 

“I already beat you at that.” 

“Punch out?” 

“We just played it.” 

“Dance Dance Revolution?”

“… No.” 

“HA! Because you know I’d totally OWN at that game. What’s the matter Tasky? Two left feet? Afraid I’m the better dancer? Because I am, I’d dance circles around you! Float like a butterfly, dance like John Travolta!” 

“Now I’m convinced you’re gay.” 

Wade’s controller bounced harmlessly off Tony’s mask, cluttering to the floor. He didn’t really have the attention span to start a proper fight, instead the rumbling growl of his stomach made for a decent distraction and he grabbed is belly. “Ooh, ich bin hungrig!”

“Didn’t you just eat?” 

“Yeah but that was like HOURS ago, at least! and I’m a growing boy.”

Taskmaster kicked his feet up on the coffee table, leaning lazily against the arm of the chair, examining the scuffs on his sneakers before leaning to rub one away with his thumb. “I don’t suppose you have anything besides raman and crackerjacks in your pantry…” 

“Hey, I totally go shopping! I mean mostly it’s to cruise for hot single mom’s in the produce isle… I love a woman who knows her way around melons.” Wade made a lewd gesture over his chest. 

“Yeeeeah… I’ll just go look.” Tony started to get up before Wade swatted at him, missing completely but then again he was pretty disorientated due to all the blood having rushed to his head an hour ago.

“No! What if I need that food? What if nuclear winter comes and I’m not prepared for it? Y2k man! Apocalypse now!” 

Tony rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue against the back of his teeth. “What year do you live in again?” 

“Well I still party like it’s Nineteen ninety-nine. Lets get something delivered.” 

“…Like?” 

“Chinese, no… Pizza! No—Yes, wait. You know what would be awesome? Orange Chicken pizza, why can’t the Italians end their war with the Chinese, it would be the perfect creation of cooperation and love.” 

“Mmm.” Taskmaster almost prided himself on his ability to ignore half the things that spewed from Deadpool’s mouth, his attention turned to the food stockpiled in the kitchen cabinets; mostly Twinkies and spam, a few boxes of captain crunch and a can of cat food. 

“You don’t have a cat.” 

“Huh? Oh! I was thinking about getting one once. But then I remembered I had Bob, and he’s just about as good, ya know, cept he doesn’t claw up my furniture and he can flush his own poop.” 

Tony closed the cabinet and went to the fridge, opened it… promptly regretted it as he pushed the door closed again, queasy. 

“Should have warned you about that! It’s a science project!”

“Not asking…” 

“So… Pizza then?” Wade pushed himself up, or rather; started to before he decided it would just be easier to roll over his shoulders and onto the floor, army crawling towards the phone. “I know this place down the street that burns it just right—ya know where it’s all squishy in the in the middle and black around the edges?” 

He was stopped in mid crawl by Tony’s leg blocking his way while the other merc snatched the phone up. Not that it stopped Wade, he just reached up to catch for his belt, using it to drag himself in a half slither-climb up the side of his body, stretching for the phone that was kept out of his reach. 

“I was thinking something actually edible.” He pushed his palm against Wade’s face to try and keep him away as he dialed.  
“No way! You’re gonna call one of those gross fancy pants places where the cooks wear big floofy hats and all the waiters are named Gaston! I hate the French, Tony; they don’t know how to make a decent enchilada!” Wade groped for the phone again, desperately this time, climbing up him like a monkey and sending them both off balance. The phone went skidding across the kitchen floor as they both went down, Wade crawling after it first before he was caught around the waist, face pushed into the ground with a violent shove.

“Oh it is ON now! 

___

Cable hardly found it necessary to rush up the stairs despite the sounds of crashing that came from Wade’s apartment; it wasn’t exactly unusual, though he did have a small amount of sympathy for the neighbors. Instead he took his time searching his pockets for the key he’d been given, shifting the paper bag tucked under his arm.

Nor was he surprised to find the place in a state of disarray, an over turned chair here, a broken lamp there and a great deal of scattered silverware that looked to have been used as projectiles with the way they were protruding from various walls and furniture.

He found Wade in admits of it all, sweaty and disheveled, trying to bludgeon Taskmaster with a phonebook; failing mostly due to an obvious broken arm and the fact that the other mercenary was keeping him out of reach with his leg. 

Nate set the bag on the countertop, clearing his throat and they both stopped to look up at him… he wasn’t quite sure, but it seemed for a moment they both shared the ‘caught with a hand in the cookie jar’ expression. 

“Boys.” 

“Heeeey Nate! Good timing! Tasky and I were just discussing what sounded good for dinner, what do you think?” 

Cable just shook his head, lips twisting in an entirely too amused expression, arms folding across his chest. Watching as the two pulled away, doing their best to casually smooth down rumpled clothing. 

“I thought you might be hungry, so I picked up sandwiches already.” 

“Peanut butter and banana?” 

“Of course.”

“You’re so good to me!” 

Nate smirked, shaking his head. “Tony, I hope you don’t mind pastrami.” 

“Hey as long as it’s not squishy in the middle and black around the edges…”

Wade threw his arms up. “You don’t know what you’re missing!”

“Now if you two wouldn’t mind helping me put the table back together?”


End file.
